


Call You Mine

by angelsfalling16



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Oral Sex, Party Crashing, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, SnowBaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22020847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsfalling16/pseuds/angelsfalling16
Summary: The night begins with Simon crashing Baz's party, and it ends with them wrapped up together in Baz's bed.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 15
Kudos: 206





	Call You Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a quick smut fic, but then it turned into this, which might be why it took me so long to get to a point where I felt happy enough with it to post it. I technically finished this fic over a month ago, but there was still something I didn't like about it, and it took completely rewriting a scene and then going back to the original one, plus a lot of time and space before I got to this point. Now, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, and I hope you all like it as well!
> 
> A big thank you to @wo2ash who listened to me ramble vaguely about this fic even though I never really told her what it was about or let her read any of it, beyond a few random snippets when I first started writing it. And for always supporting me, especially when I'm being down on myself about my writing. This one's for you, my dear.

**Simon**

My obnoxious neighbor is at it again. I’m trying to enjoy a quiet evening at home after a week of grueling schoolwork and degrading work at a restaurant downtown, and all I want is to sit back and relax and turn on some mind-numbing television, but with music pouring through the wall, that is appearing to be impossible. Baz Pitch is ruining my night, and he doesn’t even have to be here to do that.

It’s not even the good kind of music that you can get up and dance to. It sounds like classical music being played much louder than it’s intended to, probably to fill in the silence of all of the boring attendees.

From what I can hear over the music, it sounds like one of those awful, boring parties where people eat tiny foods that don’t fill them up while the guests all pretend to like each other even though they’re not-so-secretly judging them. Everyone’s probably dressed to the nines, even though it’s just a party at some crappy apartment. (I say crappy because his apartment looks just like mine, and it’s one of the cheapest places out there since it’s all I could afford when I decide to move out on my own, leaving Penny to shack up with her new boyfriend.)

It isn’t too terrible. It’s the first place I’ve had of my own, and in a way, I love all of its flaws. The stairs that look like they’re about to crumble beneath my feet, and the carpet in the hall that’s so worn you can practically see the subfloor beneath it. Even the fact that everything seems to creak adds to the charm of the place. Even my own belongings that I brought with me began to creak after I moved in. Some people would find it annoying and want to get out as soon as possible, but this is my home. I love it here.

Well, I usually love it here. It’s been an hour and a half, and the music is still blaring. I’m beginning to wonder when this party is going to end. Surely, a bunch of boring, rich people don't want to spend that much time in each other’s company for long periods of time.

I turn up the volume of my television once again, but it doesn’t help, so I decide to switch to watching on my computer and move to my bedroom, which looks out over the side of the building and the building across the way. It is also the furthest room from Baz’s flat, so I’m hoping that the distance and my noise-cancelling headphones will block out the music.

They don’t. I can still hear it, loud and clear, as if it were playing inside my own flat.

Finally, I get fed up with it and storm out of my flat and over to the one next to mine. I bang on the door a couple of times, but no one can hear me (unsurprisingly). I try the doorknob, not expecting it to actually be unlocked, allowing anyone to just walk in, but it does open. Apparently, Baz is too good to worry about intruders. (He could probably afford to replace anything someone might choose to steal anyway.)

I stop just inside the door and look around. I was right about the fancy clothes and boring people, but I begin to wonder where Baz even met these people. They don’t seem like the kind of individuals that Baz would associate himself. Not that I know enough about his friends to be sure about that, but it’s just a feeling that I have, like he’s better than this.

I mean, yeah, he comes from a rich family, but he also lives in one of the most run-down apartment complexes in town. I used to wonder whether he shunned his family’s money and chose to instead make a living of his own, but it’s not like I can just ask him to confirm this for me. We aren’t firends. Plus, he’s still got that stuck-up rich person attitude, acting like he’s better than everyone else, so I’m not sure if it really matters either way.

I take a few more steps into the flat and feel like I’ve stepped into another world completely. It’s like someone was having some fancy business party somewhere, and somehow, I got transported there when I stepped into Baz’s flat.

Who are all of these people? They can’t seriously be Baz’s friends. They have to be coworkers or something. There’s no way that he likes these people. Baz may be stuck up and a giant snob, but he’s nothing like these people. He’s better than them.

At least, that’s what I want to believe. I don’t really know him at all, though. I’m not even sure where he works. I do know he takes classes at the university sometimes, but that’s about it.

Baz and I have lived next to each other for about a year now, and all I know about him is that he’s rude, inconsiderate, and full of hate for me.

I can’t explain that last bit. I’ve never done anything to him, but every attempt on my part at extending some polite hospitality has been shot down before it can even begin. He either turns and walks away from me before I can say anything or replies with a snide remark that leaves no room for me to fight back because I’m too stunned, trying to figure out what’s going on.

If either of us should hate the other person, I should hate him because I was living peacefully here before he moved in next door and became one of the most disruptive and rudest neighbors I’ve ever met. Everyone else in this building is so kind, and I know most of them by name. The latter is true of Baz obviously, but just the thought of the former being true is laughable. Baz doesn’t have a kind bone in his body, not when he’s around me anyway.

Yet, I’ve still fallen for him.

I’ve only been standing in his flat for a few moments when Baz is suddenly standing in front of me. He seems to appear out of nowhere, as if he were a ghost or something.

He starts talking at me (at, not to, because that would be too friendly) but I don’t hear anything that he’s saying. All I can hear is the pounding of my heart as my eyes fall on what he’s wearing. Or rather what he’s not wearing.

He looks like he forgot a few steps while getting dressed. He’s wearing dark-washed jeans that look more expensive than every pair of jeans I’ve ever bought combined, and they’re so tight that they look like a second skin. And his shirt…well, he’s not wearing one. The only thing covering his torso is a dark green suit vest, and “covering” is a pretty generous way to describe it because it’s not really covering much of anything.

I don’t know if maybe he got warm in here and decided to remove his shirt and jacket, or if he just decided to host a party wearing as little as possible. Either way, he looks ridiculously handsome when he should just look ridiculous.

I’m practically salivating as my eyes run over him, not caring that I’m staring at him, and it isn’t until he snaps his fingers in front of my face that I snap out of it, glaring at him.

“What?” I snap. I have to force myself not to mention his outfit because what I want to say is something about how good he looks in those jeans, and how much better he’d look without them on.

“I said that you should leave. You weren’t invited, and it’s rather rude of you to just enter someone else’s home.”

“It’s rude of you to play your music so loud. It’s inconsiderate to your neighbors.”

“None of the others are complaining.”

“Miss Dorris is hard of hearing, but she can probably hear it, too, and if it wasn’t such a struggle for her to move around, I’m sure she’d be out here, too.”

“How do you even know that?” He asks, sounding incredulous and bored at once.

I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter. I can’t even hear myself think in my own home.”

“I was not aware that you were even capable of thinking.”

I growl at him, readying myself for the pain that I’ll feel in my hand when it connects with his face, but someone calls his name and he turns and walks away. Just like that, without another word uttered. It’s like I’m not even there, like we weren’t just talking.

It only makes me angrier and more determined to hit something.

Numerous eyes follow him, including mine, as he walks away from me, apparently just trusting that I’ll show myself out. Well, he couldn’t be more wrong. I’m not leaving until he listens to me.

After a couple of minutes, when I realize that Baz isn’t going to come back, I start to move along the wall, edging around the party. It isn’t long before my eyes find Baz again, laughing and talking cordially with various guests. It’s obvious that he’s the host from the way that he bounces from person to person, talking long enough for it not to be rude but not long enough to be drawn into any one conversation.

I realize then how creepy I must seem. I clearly wasn’t invited to this party, and I stick out enough as it is without prowling around the room, eyes glued to Baz. I turn away then, pretending to be observing the food on the snack table that’s been set up along one wall of the living room.

There are a lot of choices here, but none of it looks appetizing. That’s coming from me, and I’ll eat anything. But this food doesn’t look real. It’s probably been catered from somewhere fancy that I could never even dream of affording.

Turning away from the table again, I move to a quiet part of the room and lean against the wall. It’s not actually quiet since the music is so loud, but it feels quiet because there aren’t too many people over here. It gives me a moment to finally process what Baz is wearing.

I may look underdressed in my worn jeans and t-shirt, but Baz is actually underdressed. He’s practically naked in what he’s wearing.

I can see so much of his skin, and my fingers itch to reach out and touch him. I’m surprised that no one else has, and then I feel a hot feeling rush through me at the thought of someone else’s hands on him.

I know what that feeling is. Even if I’ve never been willing to admit it, I’m attracted to Baz. I wish I could say that it was a strictly physical attraction, but then I’d be lying. The truth is that I’ve fallen in love with him. My irritating neighbor, who I absolutely cannot stand, has managed to steal my heart. Which is why I crashed his party, to get him back for that. (I just figure out how exactly to go about doing that.)

I might have done things differently if I had known that it was such a formal affair, but how formal can it be when Baz is only half-dressed?

Speaking of Baz, I’ve lost sight of him. I don’t know anyone else here, and while the smart thing would be to leave, I came here for a reason, even if I forgot that reason as soon as I saw Baz without a shirt on.

My eyes scan the crowd of people a couple of more times, but Baz seems to have disappeared. He’s either pulled another ghost move, or he has decided to abandon his own party. Neither of those seem right, though. Maybe he’s off in one of the other rooms with someone.

That thought gets my blood boiling, and I have to shake the image from my mind. I don’t feel comfortable snooping around Baz’s flat, and for a moment, I consider just getting out of here. — there’s no point in staying if I can’t find Baz — but that’s when my eyes land on the French doors that lead out onto the balcony. One of them is slightly ajar, but from over here, I can’t see out of it to see whether Baz is out there. All I can see are the reflections of the party guests, much too proper and self-absorbed for my taste. I can’t believe that Baz is friends with these people.

Glancing around the room again and seeing only fully dressed people, I decide that it couldn’t hurt to check out there. At worst, I’ll get some fresh air and a reprieve from this crowd.

Ducking around guests who don’t seem to even notice me, I make my way over to the balcony doors. With one last look around, I pull the door open and duck outside, letting the door fall shut behind me. It makes only a soft click as it catches on the latch.

I breathe in a lungful of cool air, and that’s when I realize how stifling hot it was inside. Baz must have thought so too because he’s standing in front of me, leaning against the railing and taking in the sight of the city around us.

Quietly, I take another step forward. He hasn’t noticed my presence yet, so I have a chance to just take him in for a moment.

The vest hangs loosely around his dark skin as though it’s a size too big for him, but it shows off more of his body, which is probably the point. Everything about him still looks so formal and proper about him, except for his hair.

His hair has fallen out of its slicked-back state and is now hanging loosely. It looks like someone has run their hand through it carelessly, knotting it up. If I think about it for a moment, Baz actually looks like he’s just been fucked against a wall by someone who took care not to mess up his clothes but didn’t give a damn about the way his hair looked.

I feel a growl build deep in my throat. The sound actually escapes me, and Baz whirls around to glare at me. I glance around to make sure that he’s alone, and I feel relief wash over me when I see that he is. It doesn’t explain the way that his hair looks, though. Maybe there was someone out here before or he met up with someone when I had my back turned.

I know it’s irrational of me to believe that he was really out here having sex with someone – he couldn’t have been out here for more than a couple of minutes – but I’m not being rational right now. Something about this whole night is pushing me forward, trying to find a way to make him mine, to make sure that no one else is allowed to touch him.

That stab of jealousy is back, and this time I have no chance of controlling it. I stride over to him, backing him up against the railing, but I stop just short of touching him.

“Aren’t you a little cold in that?” I ask, my voice low.

He turns his nose up at me. “There is no hot or cold. There’s only aesthetic.”

“What?” I ask, frowning in confusion.

“I look good. Don’t you think?” He smirks and pushes himself away from the rail, and just as quickly as I took control, I’ve lost it again, but I stand my ground so that when he steps toward me, he has no choice but to press up against me.

I’m not going to let him think he has the advantage here, though. This may be his party, but I’m here to crash it, and that now includes disheveling the host. Placing one hand on his waist and the other on his shoulder, I lean up to kiss him.

I move slowly to give him time to pull away if he wants to, but when his hands find my hips, I close the distance between us. I slide the hand on his shoulder around to the back of his neck to hold him there. He melts against me, and I smile, knowing that I’ve finally won. For the first time since I entered his flat, all of his attention is on me.

He’s kissing me back, and as I push my mouth more firmly against his, he tightens his grip on my hips and pulls me closer. Tentatively, I run the tip of my tongue over his bottom lip. I do it again, and he parts his lips on a sigh. I press in, and a new sound escapes him as my tongue meets his, wrapping around it and tasting him.

We spend several long minutes exploring each other’s mouths. I’m not sure what to do with my hands, so I keep them where they are. I’m not really sure what we’re doing at all. This wasn’t part of the plan.

I still can’t believe that Baz is even letting me kiss him, but he keeps making these perfect noises that sends my blood rushing south. I have to position my hips awkwardly so that he can’t feel just how much this one small kiss is affecting me.

Finally, we have to break for air, and I lean my forehead against his, my eyes falling on his bare chest. I want to touch the smooth skin there. I want to touch him everywhere, to pull more of those sounds from him, make him fall apart beneath my hands. That’s when I get an idea.

I kiss the tip of his nose, then the edge of his sharp cheekbone, kissing along the blush there, barely visible in the moonlight, and I keep going until my lips brush his hairline.

“I think you’re on the verge of a wardrobe malfunction,” I murmur lowly in his ear. “Let me help you with that.”

I reach for the buttons of his vest, and Baz makes a noise in his throat but doesn’t protest. There are only three buttons, and I make quick work of them. When the last one is undone, I press a kiss to the spot where his shoulder meets his neck, then I sink my teeth into his skin, marking him as I push the vest off his shoulders.

Baz moans, and his grip on my hips tighten again, urging me on. I kiss down along his collarbone and keep going, biting down every once in a while. Even if he puts the vest back on, he’ll never be able to hide these marks from his guests. He isn’t protesting, though, so I keep going, the thought of everyone knowing that he’s mine filling me up with a warm sensation that lights my skin on fire.

One of his hands is in my hair now, his fingers carding through my hair in a surprisingly gentle manner. It feels so good that I nearly stop my movements, pressing my head into his hand, but I keep moving.

I reach one of his nipples, and I experimentally stick my tongue out to lick over it. He moans quietly, as though he were trying to stifle it, and he pushes his chest against my face, so I do it again. I pull it into my mouth and bite down lightly, delighting in the moan that it elicits, louder this time.

I move to the other nipple and lavish the same attention on it before continuing my journey downward, sucking and biting as his fingers tangle in my hair, and my pants grow increasingly tight. I’m practically on my knees now, kissing a circle around his belly button. I’m not sure if I should keep going. I have no idea what I’m doing. I didn’t plan for any of this to happen, so I’m just kind of winging it at this point.

“Simon. Simon, wait.” Baz pushes me away gently, almost like he wishes that he was pulling me closer instead, and his voice is breathy.

Reluctantly, I lean back to look at his face, cheeks stained red with a perpetual blush.

“We should go inside,” he says, bending down to pick up his vest where it’s hanging off the edge of the balcony. We’re lucky it didn’t fall. (Or unlucky, I think when he pulls it back on, leaving the buttons undone.

“Oh. Alright.” I let go of him and take a step back. This was a mistake. I took a chance, and it was the wrong move. I pushed too far.

Sensing how rejected I feel, he reaches for my hand, squeezing it once before holding it between us.

“I just meant that we’re kind of in the open here, and I’ve got guests inside. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be…” He drifts off for a moment, trying to put into words whatever it is that we’re doing. “To be doing whatever this is.” He manages to finish, but he sounds uncertain.

I tug on his hand, pulling him closer but still leaving a respectable amount of space between us. I drop my voice and say, “Then let’s go inside and find someplace private.”

He looks like he’s about to protest again, probably mention his guests, but desire seems to win out as he nods.

“Yeah. Let’s do that.”

I release his hand and turn to the door. I try to turn the door handle, but it doesn’t budge. I try again, but still nothing happens. I stare at the door stupidly for a moment.

“Um,” I say. “It won’t open.”

“Simon,” Baz says under his breath, a hint of both annoyance and anger to his voice. I don’t have to turn around to see that the softness from a moment ago is gone. “Why did you shut the door?”

“I didn’t know it was going to lock,” I say defensively. And I didn’t actually shut it; it did that on its own. I don’t say this to him because I’m pretty sure it won’t help anything.

“I had it open for a reason!” He practically shouts.

“How was I supposed to know that?”

He sighs and moves around me, jiggling the handles as if the doors will open for him when they wouldn’t for me. Of course, he would think me incapable of opening a door properly. I roll my eyes at him, but he doesn’t see the action, too busy trying to jimmy the door open.

He bangs his fist on the door, and I join him, hoping that it will draw someone’s attention if we both do it. But no one so much as looks in our direction. They must not be able to hear us over the music, and I know from when I was looking for Baz that they can’t see us out here. It might as well be made of one-way glass for the amount I could see through from the other side.

“Where’s your phone?” Baz asks urgently, holding out his hand.

“My apartment. I didn’t expect to be here for this long.”

He’s glaring at me now, the beautiful blush from before nonexistent. I worry that I’ve managed to screw things up now. He’ll be too angry to want to do anything more with me, and I can’t really blame him. We’re stuck out here unless someone happens to need some fresh air.

“You just had to crash my party and get us locked out here, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t my plan to cause problems,” I say defensively.

“What _was_ your plan?”

That makes me pause. I didn’t have much a plan when I came over here except to tell off Baz, and I’m not even sure what for anymore. Kissing a guy will do that for you. It will completely ruin you and make you forget everything.

“I just wanted to talk to you.” It’s mostly true.

“Well, now you have plenty of time to talk to me.” He doesn’t look like he wants to actually talk, though.

“I think I’d much rather do other things right now,” I say, reaching for him, hoping that we can pick up where we left off, but he dodges my hand, taking a step to the side.

“Wait. We should definitely talk.”

I drop my hand in disappointment. “About what?”

“About whatever you expect here.”

“I don’t expect anything.”

“Then, what do you want?”

_What_ do _I want?_ I wonder.

I’ve never really thought about it before. I never thought that I could have anything with Baz, so I tried not to imagine what it would be like to be with him, which means I never thought about what I wanted with him.

I tear my hand through my hair, trying to think of a good answer, and finally, I decide to just go with the truth.

“I’m not sure what I want. I like what we were doing a-and I’d like more of that.”

Baz stares at me for a long moment, his expression blank. “I don’t want to be just a fling.”

“I don’t want that either. I like you Baz.”

He lets out a breath, and his expression starts to change, opening up once again. He smiles at me, and it’s an almost predatory look before he starts backing me up against the wall. His hands are back on my hips, and it isn’t long before his mouth is on mine again, too.

I let him take control this time, pushing into me as his hands start to explore my body. One hand dips beneath my shirt, sliding up my back. I shiver, and I’m not sure if it’s from the chilliness of his hand or just his touch, but it feels good.

His tongue pushes its way into my mouth, and it’s my turn to moan and lose control. With his tongue in my mouth, I can’t think clearly, but I don’t mind it. This feels good, and that’s all that matters right now. When he sucks on my tongue, I gasp and feel myself start to grow hard again, my erection having died down while we were attempting to get the door open.

I retaliate by sinking my teeth into his bottom lip and tugging on it, eliciting a loud, low moan from him before he starts to kiss me more fiercely. He presses his body against me, and I can feel his hardness pressed against mine. I want to push back against it, but I hold myself back, worried that I’ll come in my pants like a teenager. I already feel so close to the edge, and we haven’t done anything yet.

We stay like that for a good long while before I allow my own hands to explore a bit, rubbing over his sides and up and down his back before I let one hand slip lower and lower until it reaches his arse, dipping down into his back pocket.

He hums against my lips, and I take it to mean that he likes that. I leave my hand there for a minute, simply resting it there, before I get up enough courage to squeeze, pulling him even closer up against me and groaning as our cocks rub together.

He gasps and pulls back, breathing heavily. I slip my hand from his pocket and place it on his lower back, holding him to me as we struggle to catch our breaths.

“It’s freezing,” he says, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. I have to fight not to point out the fact that he’s basically naked.

“I know how to warm you up,” I whisper.

He quirks a perfectly groomed brow at me, and he doesn’t protest when I change our positions so that he’s the one leaning up against the wall now.

“Yeah?” he gasps.

“Mhm,” I hum, reaching for the button of his jeans.

“Wait,” he says, and I freeze. I let go and take a small back. “What if one of the neighbors sees?”

“ _I’m_ one of your neighbors, and I’m right here. And it’s not like likely the other one will be out this late. She’s probably in bed right now.”

“You know, it’s almost creepy how much you know about Miss Dorris.”

I shrug. “We’re friends.”

He frowns, but he also looks a little amused. “I would ask more, but I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Just because _you’re_ an arse to all you neighbors doesn’t mean that we all are.”

“I beg to differ. I mean, you locked me out on my own balcony.”

I roll my eyes at him. “It was an accident.”

“Whatever. Why are we still talking?”

“You started it,” I say, realizing how childish it sounds but not caring. “And because you don’t want me to touch you, and I’m trying to respect that.”

Even though I took a step back, we’re still pretty close, and my body yearns to be closer to him. To pull him up against me and kiss him senseless. But he asked me to stop, and even though my fingers are fidgeting at the hem of my shirt, itching to reach out to him, I’m holding myself back.

“What a gentleman” he says, cocking his head to the side. “But I never said that. I was just worried someone would see.

“Oh, so you’re saying you want me to touch you?” I say, smiling cheekily.

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

I do. He instantly seeks entrance into my mouth, and I allow him to kiss me for a while before I reach for his jeans again. He doesn’t protest this time. He sighs when I place a kiss to his jaw, and I pop open the button and slowly pull the zip down, drawing this out much longer than necessary but wanting to take my time with it.

I push his jeans down just enough to expose his hardened cock, and he gasps as the cold air rushes over it. He isn’t wearing any pants.

“Really, Baz?” I ask, amused. He just shrugs, and I can’t say I’m surprised. I don’t think these pants would have fit if he’d been wearing pants.

I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and give a slow pull. He gasps again but for a completely different reason. He doesn’t push my hand away, so I take that as a sign to keep going.

Sliding my hand up and down his cock at a slow pace, occasionally rubbing my thumb over the tip, I drop to my knees. Baz’s hand immediately moves to tangle in my hair, and I smile to myself before moving to blow air over the tip of his cock, delighting in the way it makes him shiver above me.

Slowly, I lean forward until my lips are wrapped around the tip, my hand still stroking the rest of his cock at a slow pace. Baz tells me to hurry, but I ignore him, dipping my tongue into the slit, tasting him there. At this point, I don’t really care if someone finds us like this.

I lave the head of his cock for a while before I start to take more of him in sucking and stroking him simultaneously until my lips hit my fist. I move my hand off his cock and over to grip his hip. Then, I take the rest of him in, almost gagging when I feel him hit the back of my throat.

I stay there for a moment, forcing myself to breathe through my nose, before slowly pulling back, dragging my tongue along the underside of his cock. I suck at tip before sliding back down, swirling my tongue around the shaft as I start to set up a steady, slow pace.

There are soft sighs and quiet moans from above me as I move, and I go on like this for a couple of long minutes before Baz speaks up.

“ _Please_ , Simon,” he begs, tangling one of his hands in my hair, and I can’t say no to him right now.

I pick up my pace, sucking him harder, flicking my tongue across the slit every once in a while. Deciding to try something, I drag my teeth lightly up his shaft, and Baz grips my hair tightly in his fist, moaning louder than before. Smiling as much as I can around his cock, I do it again, picking up pace again, using my teeth only a few times, waiting until he’s not expecting it anymore before doing it again.

He’s moaning things that I can’t make out, and I can tell he’s starting to get close, so I redouble my efforts, trying to make this as good as possible for him.

It isn’t much longer before he’s gasping that he’s about to come, and I take him all the way down again, swallowing around his length. He gasps once more before his release shoots down my throat, moaning loudly enough that I’m worried someone really will come out here and find us like this.

His body shudders above me as he climaxes, and I work to swallow every bit of his come, breathing hard when I pull away. His hand drags one more time through my hair.

My legs are shaky as I stand, and Baz is slumped against the wall, a pretty smile spreading on his tired face. I help him pull his jeans back up before resting my forehead on his shoulder, holding him for a moment. I’m still uncomfortably hard, but I just want to enjoy this moment for a little while longer.

Then I hear the door click open, and I jump back and thumb at the corners of my mouth, hoping to remove any trace of what we’ve just done. Baz discreetly buttons up his jeans as I turn to the person.

The guy looks between us, and it appears as though his eyes barely register me before he turns to give his full attention to Baz. I should be glad that he didn’t focus on me or my obvious erection, but instead, I feel myself getting angry.

“There you are, Basilton. We were wondering where you had run off to. I thought I might have seen someone come out here earlier, but I never saw you return.”

“The door locked behind us. We’ve been stuck out here for a while.” Baz says it so calmly, as if I haven’t just sucked him off. There isn’t even a hair out of place, I realize when I chance a glance at him. He’s still irritatingly beautiful.

“It’s terribly cold, don’t you think?” The guy asks, eyeing Baz up and down. It’s more than a casual gaze. His eyes seem to rake over him, taking in every inch of him. (And so much of him is showing.) “You’re not wearing enough to be out this late.”

I clench my jaw, my hands balling into fists as I resist the urge to wrap an arm around Baz and pull him to my side to let the guy know that Baz is taken. (If he was serious about what he said before.)

I want to tell the guy to just leave us alone. I would have preferred being stuck out here in the cold to watching this guy molest Baz with his eyes and not being able to say anything about it.

“I’m alright,” Baz says pleasantly, seemingly unphased by the way the guy is looking at him. “I’m just glad someone found us. I was beginning to worry that we would be stuck out here all night.

Baz takes a step forward towards the door, not even sparing a glance in my direction. It shouldn’t hurt, but it does, like I’ve just been stabbed in the chest.

The three of us head back inside, and when I close the door behind me, it feels like I’m closing the door on something else. I enjoyed what I was doing with Baz, and I’m worried that after the night is over, he’s going to pretend like nothing happened.

I follow Baz like a shadow as he makes one last round of the room, shaking hands and bidding everyone goodnight, even issuing a few apologies when people comment on his disappearance. There’s nothing in his expression or voice to give away the truth about what happened out on the balcony, and everyone either seems not to notice or is politely ignoring the hickeys on his skin.

I don’t understand how he can act so cool and collected while I’m ready to vibrate out of my skin, dying to reach out and touch him. My erection has mostly deflated, but I still feel worked up. I need some kind of release, and as I watch Baz speak to all of his guests, I’m sure that I want to find that release with him.

He’s all polite smiles and gentleness, and I can see now that it’s fake, but I want him to be gentle with me. Or rough if that’s what he likes. I don’t have a preference. I just want to be with him.

When Baz finally closes the door behind the final guest, I don’t have time to even open my mouth to ask him if I should leave, too, before he has me backed up against the wall, all the air in my lungs escaping me in a rush.

The look in his eyes as he searches my face for something is hungry. He looks like he wants to devour me, and at this point, I would let him. I would give him anything in this moment.

“Baz,” I whisper, and his eyes light up with something warm.

“Simon,” he replies, his smile widening. Then, he’s leaning down to kiss me, pressing his body unabashedly against mine.

Now that’s everyone’s gone, so is the hesitance. His movements are confident as he slides one hand into my hair and wraps the other around my waist. The best I can do as his tongue wildly explores my mouth is grip onto the lapels of his vest.

I like Baz like this, taking control and doing what he wants. He seems more relaxed now, and I hadn’t noticed how tense he was around those guests until they left.

“I want you in my bed,” Baz says, gasping for air.

I nod my head, and he pulls me away from the wall, his hand intertwining with mine.

We hurriedly make our way to Baz’s room, but our progress is slowed by the fact that we push each other against every available surface on the way there, snogging and grinding against each other until every inch of my skin is alit with the fire that comes from touching Baz. I want so much more of him.

I tell him this as he presses me into a doorframe, sucking a bruising mark onto my neck. “I want you,” I moan.

“On the bed,” he commands. “Pants off.” It’s the only thing I’m still wearing at this point. He’s still got on one sock and his jeans, and he looks so bloody attractive like that.

He stares at me while he waits for me to comply with his demands, and I have no reason not to. I could make a show of it, but at this point, I just want to get to it. I’ve been aching for him to touch me all night. I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.

Luckily, as soon as I start to move, he does too, slipping out of his jeans and single sock. I move up the bed until I’m lying against his pillows. I inhale, and I can smell his shampoo, cedar and bergamot. It’s so perfectly Baz, and I wish I could smell that every day.

Baz joins me on the bed, crawling across it until his body is hovering above mine. His eyes stay on mine, and I want to tell him to hurry up and touch me, but his look is so soft and tender that I keep my mouth shut and wait.

Finally, he leans down to kiss me, gently pressing his body against mine. I swallow a moan when our cocks touch for the first time without clothing between them. Baz has slowed down now, kissing me slowly, his hands roaming my body carefully as he apparently tries to map out every part of my body with them.

His mouth moves from my lips to my cheek and then down along my jaw. When he reaches my neck, he bites a mark into it to match the one I gave him earlier. I sigh and move one hand to grip his hip lightly and the other to rub along his back, tracing patterns down his spine as his mouth moves down my chest.

He licks and sucks over my nipples until they’re hard and alert, then he keeps moving down, hands still exploring my body, flicking over my nipples, squeezing my hips, trailing down the hair along my chest, and skating over my ribs.

He’s touching me so tenderly that this feels like this is the prelude to making love rather than to a quick fuck. I don’t mind it. I want this softness with him. I want it all, and I want it to mean more than what a one-off would.

I love him, and the way he’s touching me makes me think that he might love me, too.

Finally, he moves lower until he’s sat in between my legs, smiling down at me with that warm look that I don’t think I’ll ever get used to. His hand wraps carefully around my cock, and when I reach for his, he swats my hand away.

“My turn,” he says with a wicked grin. He scoots farther down until his mouth hovers over my cock.

“I’m not going to last long,” I admit on a gasp. I didn’t come on the balcony and the frenzied journey from the front door to his bedroom has me achingly hard.

“That’s fine. We don’t have to do much tonight. We can take this slow.”

I nod in agreement, unable to speak as his tongue finds the head of my cock, liking it experimentally before moving on. I should have known that Baz would be a tease.

His hand strokes my cock, but his mouth moves to kiss my hip and then down to my inner thigh where he places kisses and little bites to the sensitive skin there. I have to fight not to buck up into his hand. My hands fist into the covers, and I bite my lip to try to keep in the moans, but I don’t do a very good job of it.

When he’s done leaving marks along my thigh, he returns to my cock, sucking on the head before taking me all the way down in one go. I gasp as my cock hits the back of his throat, and I nearly come right then; it feels so good.

He pulls off slowly before taking me down again, and I choke out a moan as he starts up a steady pace. His mouth is wicked talented and so much better like this, when he’s not insulting me. His tongues swirls around my shaft, and just when I’m certain I’m going to come, he pulls off.

“Baz,” I groan when he sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He shushes me as he moves back up to kiss me chastely before grinding his cock down against mine, and we both groan. He grasps both of our cocks in one of his hands and starts tugging on them together.

I let my head fall back against the bed, relishing in the pleasure of it, but then his touch disappears almost as quickly as it appeared. I push myself up on an elbow to see what he’s doing. He’s leaning over to dig through the drawer of his nightstand for something, and I reach out to grip his hip under the pretense of steadying him, but really, I just want to touch him.

And fuck, he looks gorgeous with his body stretched out like that. He returns to me a moment later with a small bottle of lube. He pours some into his hand before tossing it aside, and he rubs it over both of our cocks, making the slide smoother when he starts to pull us off again.

I bring my hand up to join his, and we work in unison to reach our climaxes.

It doesn’t take much longer. He kisses me, mostly a clash of teeth and tongues, and then I’m coming hard between us. A few strokes later, he’s moaning and coming, too, our come mixing together between us.

As we come down from our mutual high, Baz is just kind of sprawled across my chest, and I’m trying to ignore the stickiness between our bodies. When Baz speaks my name, the carefully built tone that he uses to guard his feelings back in his voice, I can feel that something has changed between us. I’m just not sure what exactly it is.

I look down at him, and he carefully pries his body from mine, rolling off of me. I wish that we could shower before we have this talk that will probably be unpleasant. I just want another minute to enjoy this peaceful bliss before one of us screws it up.

“I know that I said you had to be all in if we were going to do this,” he begins quietly, “but I understand if you only agreed to that because you wanted sex. I won’t blame you if you walk out now.”

I sit up and turn a confused gaze on him. He isn’t looking at me.

“Wait. What are you saying?” Does he not want more than this?

He sits up, too, but he doesn’t quite meet my eyes as he says, “I’m giving you an out. If you don’t want this, I won’t stop you from leaving. I don’t want to force you into something you don’t want.”

I can feel myself starting to get irrationally angry as he continues to stare at something behind me.

Does he really think I only wanted him for sex? I can sort of see how he might have gotten that idea – we weren’t exactly on good terms before I showed up and started groping him on his balcony. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want more than that. I just never knew how to put that into words. (Or whether he would even want to hear it if I did.)

“You aren’t forcing me to do anything,” I say, a bit of my anger slipping into my tone. “I want this. I want _all of this_.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I want to be able to call you mine, Baz.”

“Okay.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Yeah. I want that, too.”

I smile and kiss him, our lips meeting gently. I’m almost relieved when he pulls away, nose wrinkling as he says, “We should wash up.”

“Agreed.”

He slides off the bed, and I follow him into the en suite.

He turns on the shower, and I climb in after him. I feel my body start to heat up from more than just the shower as we kiss slowly under the spray, touching each other gingerly as we wash each other off. We both came again, and somehow this moment is just as soft as the one we shared on his bed.

Everything about Baz has softened (including his cock.) His eyes, his smile, the way he speaks to me in a hushed tone as we climb into his bed together, our naked bodies tangling together under the pile of blankets he sleeps with. It’s almost stifling underneath all of them, but I don’t want to leave the circle of his arms.

I’ve just about drifted off to sleep when Baz speaks, his breath tickling my cheek.

“Why did you really come over, Simon?” He asks quietly.

“To yell at you about the music. That was only motive.”

“Really? You weren’t planning on sucking me off on balcony?”

I feel my face flush as I shake my head. “Definitely not. Though, it wasn’t too bad of an outcome.”

He laughs lightly, and I smile to myself.

“What was this party even for?” I ask, drawing circles with my fingers over his chest.

He sighs, and I can hear how exhausted he is in it.

“My father forced me to throw it. I barely know these people, let alone like them, so I decided to have a bit of fun with it.”

“And you decided to dress like sex on legs to accomplish it?” The words just kind of spill out before I can stop them, and my face burns. I’m glad that it’s too dark for me to see his expression.

“I wouldn’t have described it quite like that,” he replies, his tone amused, “but yes. I wanted to dress scandalously, knowing that someone would report it all back to my father. I’m hoping it will keep him from ever forcing me to do this again.”

“But you were worried about being found out on the balcony with my mouth wrapped around your cock.”

I know it isn’t the same thing, but I like bringing that up. It’s one of my favorite parts about tonight. I have a lot of favorite moments from this night. It turned out to be amazing even though it started out kind of terribly.

“I just wanted to anger him. What I don’t need is some kind of sex scandal where I’m found getting off with my neighbor, neglecting my hosting duties completely for most of the party. He might disown me for that.”

“Would he really?” I ask softly. I don’t know much about Baz’s father, but I’m pretty sure that he isn’t too accepting of things like two blokes sharing a bed together.

I feel Baz shift uncomfortably beside me, and I tighten my arms around him so that he won’t try to pull away

Maybe I shouldn’t have asked that. I never say the right things. I didn’t mean to upset him, and now, I’m wishing I could take it back.

After a long moment, he finally answers me.

“Honestly, I don’t know. He knows that I’m gay, but he does his absolute best never to acknowledge that. I think he would probably just ignore my existence for a couple of months until he needs me for something else, like this stupid party.”

“Oh.”

“What about your family?” He asks in an obvious attempt to get the attention off of himself.

I shrug. “Don’t have one.”

“Oh.” His tone has changed. “I’m sorry.”

I shrug again. I don’t want to talk about this right now. We can definitely talk about it at some point, but I just want to focus on tonight.

“So, what was up with the music then?” I ask.

“Preapproved by my father. I thought if I played it loud enough, people would get a headache and leave. It seems that may have backfired since I seemed to have attracted you here rather than getting rid of anyone.”

“I made the party better,” I say, grinning at him through the dark.

“Indeed,” he agrees. “But you also ran the risk of my father hearing about all of this. I usually try not to let him find out if I’m with somebody. He prefers to be blissfully ignorant.”

“Oh. So, you want me to be a secret.” My heart sinks in my chest, dropping nearly to my stomach. I feel sick. I like Baz, but I don’t want to be a dirty mistress while he pretends to date some girl to make his father happy.

“No, no,” he rushes to say, but I’m already rolling away from him. He reaches for my arm and pulls me back to face him.

“Simon, that’s not what I meant. I’m saying that I would have to keep you a secret in order to make my father happy, and I couldn’t care less about doing that. I want to be out in the open with you. Screw what other people think. I like you, and I want everyone to know it.”

Hesitantly, I face him again, searching his face for any signs that he may be lying. I don’t think that I’ve ever seen his expression be so open. He’s opening himself up to me in a way that I suspect that he doesn’t done to very many other people. There’s no way that I can’t believe him.

“What if he really does disown you?”

“I doubt he will, but I’m willing to risk it.”

“For one guy?”

“For _you_ , Simon. I know I’ve been awful to you since I moved in, but it was because I was trying to hide how attracted I am to you. I’ve liked you for a long time now.”

“Me, too,” I say, moving back to his side. His hand slides down my arm until his fingers are wrapped around mine.

“I want to be with you, even if it means going against my father. It might be a mistake, but I don’t think it is. I want this with you.”

It’s the first time that he’s actually said that. I know that he agreed to it before, but this makes it feel real. I lean up and kiss him fiercely.

When we pull away, a few moments later, I bury my face in his neck, and we fall asleep. It’s incredibly comfortable in his arms, like I’m finally where I belong.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! 
> 
> Title from the song Call You Mine by The Chainsmokers and Bebe Rexha
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](https://angelsfalling16.tumblr.com/)


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